Broken Wing
by ChasingRainbows90
Summary: Set around 6 years from the present day
1. Chapter 1

**This is hopefully going to be quite a short fic - and the idea came to me randomly before Holby and unusually for me I've planned out a lot of it though I'm not 100% sure where this is going to go. Hopefully it's ok :)**

**Set around 6 years from the present day**

"Can you tell me a story mama?" The little girl snuggled beneath the blanket on her bed and pulled her teddy bear close to her chest, as she watched her mum with wide eyes so reminiscent of her father's. They were eyes that seemed to switch colour depending on the child's mood.

"It's getting late" the mother responds shifting to the edge of the bed. She isn't sure why but tonight she doesn't feel like telling her daughter a fairy-tale. Most nights she struggles to read them with conviction, to give the words a truth that will instil a belief and hope in her young daughter's heart; when they are two things that she herself hasn't felt for a long time. She has finally started to feel a modicum of happiness again but still she finds it difficult to read these old stories, but her daughter loves them; tales of handsome princes and girls destined to be beautiful princesses.

"Please" the child pleads and for a moment, the mother sees not her baby but the girl's father. It strikes her occasionally the resemblance between the man and the girl. Most of the time she pushes it from her head, she sees the parts of herself in the child; the red hair so like her own and the bone structure she sees reflected back at her in the mirror. But the girl's hair falls in curls so like her father's and even within that face so like her own, there are traces of him beyond the eyes. On night's like tonight it becomes all the harder to ignore.

"Just one" she relents, watching as a smile lights up the child's face. She is sleepy, and her mum is almost certain she won't be awake for the entirety of the story, that perhaps she can avoid having to tell of the happily ever after instead leaving that up to the child's imagination; her dream world. "Which story do you want then – Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty?" she names her daughter's favourites first and watches as the little girl twists her lips together before she gives her mum a smile.

"No mama, I want a different story" she answers, not even glancing in the direction of her book shelf. Instead she fixes her mum, with a firm look; one much more grown up than her five and a half years. "I want my story" she tells her.

"Your story?" the mum asks with a feeling of trepidation and confusion mixed together. She watches as the little girl nods, rocking her bear gently.

"I want to know about my daddy" she says softly, her expression hopeful. The mum sighs. She has spoken so little of her child's father, pushing away the questions that she has asked, diverting the conversation. She has become a master at it, and her daughter had learned from a much younger age not to ask.

"You know about your father" the mum responds, hoping the child will stop. This conversation isn't what she wants, she doesn't want to tell her daughter her story because it is a story that will break the mother's heart once again. She forces the memories away; to the back of her mind. That place where her darkest thoughts reside, where they exist to torment and tease her in the quiet moments.

"At school, everyone was talking about their daddies" the child speaks sadly, thinking of the stories she had heard that day, of men who did different jobs, who took children to the park, who played with them and read stories – even if they only did so on some weekends. Some of her friends had two daddies, and step daddies and one had two mummies but she had been left out. She had stumbled as she tried to recall words that she had been told as a toddler, before the conversation had been halted. She had thought of mummy's boyfriend but he didn't count as a daddy. "I didn't get to talk" she adds sadly.

"Baby" she starts to speak softly and watches as her daughter's face falls as she predicts the inevitable end to this conversation.

"I only want to know little things – like what daddy looked like" she speaks softly and the mum sighs, her mind instantly recalling the man who had given her the most precious gift of her daughter. She smiles a little at the image of him frozen in her mind before she pushes it away, reminded of the hurt and anguish.

"He had hair which was curly like yours, only it was brown" she speaks slowly and cautiously watching as her daughter laps up even the smallest of details, "and he had eyes just like yours, and he spoke with a funny accent that got stronger when he was shouting; and he liked to do silly voices"

"So he would have done voices when he read me stories?" the child asks innocently interrupting her mother, "You're not good at the voices but daddy would have been right mummy?" she adds, in a tumbled rush and the mum has to swallow the lump in her throat. The child frowns for a moment after he speaks, suddenly sheepish.

"Yes, he would have" she responds, "and he was a nurse and we worked together" she finishes and the child nods slightly, recovering herself. She knew that part; that mummy and daddy used to work together. There is still something that confuses her though, the part that bugged her the most in class and the part that mummy never spoke of before.

"How come daddy doesn't come to see me?" She asks finally when she notices her mum shifting again, getting ready to leave the room. The mother freezes, her mind a whirl as she considers the answer to give her daughter. Finally she turns and kisses her daughter gently on the forehead and guides her head down on to the pillow.

"Daddy lives in heaven" she answers, swallowing hard and wondering if she is doing the right thing in telling her daughter this. She watches as tears fill the little girl's eyes, eyes that look so very like his. She recalls seeing his eyes glisten in much the same way so many years previously.

"Why?" the child questions, saddened at the loss of someone she has never known. She watches her mum closely.

"It's time to sleep baby girl" her mum whispers rather than answering to question. She kisses her daughter once more, "we'll talk about this another day" she states as she walks from the room, trying to push away the lump in her throat. She needs to think this through. She needs time.

She walks away from the child's bedroom and down the stairs to the front room where he sits waiting. The man who she thinks she loves. The man she has allowed to move in with her and her daughter. She thinks he loves her too, that he loves them.

"Is she asleep?" He asks her and she gives him a small nod though she is certain her daughter is far from the land of nod.

"Hopefully" she says quietly, hoping he doesn't catch her out in the lie. He hands her a glass of wine and she smiles grateful. She settles down next to him on the couch and feels his arm come around her shoulder and strokes her hair.

"my beautiful Jackie" he whispers in her ear, and for a moment she tenses at the sound of the nickname but she doesn't correct him. She doesn't bother now.


	2. Chapter 2

**I'm a little bit unsure about this part. I made the mistake of writing the middle bits (because I knew what was going to happen in them) and then finding myself having to work out how to get to that point. I'll also admit that it took me forever to name Jac's boyfriend so if he randomly does ever change name please point it out to me. I hope this is ok and thank you to anyone who has read it. **

The sound of crying awakens Jac in the early hours of the morning. It takes her a moment to rouse herself enough to know that it isn't just the phantom crying she occasionally hears in her dreams, but rather a very real cry coming from somewhere within the house. She moves slowly, shifting herself in the bed so that she can free herself from Liam's arms. He stirs as she does so and she slows her movements, knowing that she has to get to the source of the crying but not wanting to wake him. Finally she is free, and she stands and stretches.

"Where are you going Jackie?" he mumbles sleepily and she silently curses herself for not moving more carefully. Liam hates being woken, almost as much as he hates waking to find that she has slipped free of his arms. But she understands, he doesn't sleep well and it takes him a long time to get to sleep so he never appreciates being woken. She knows too that it is his protectiveness that means he doesn't like it when she's gone; it's a sign of his love. Still though sometimes she wishes he was easier.

"Mills needs me" she whispers in response and she can see a frown settle on his face, he still looks like he is sleeping but she knows he is alert enough to respond to her. She knows that expression.

"You mollycoddle that child" there is a bitterness to his voice in his sleepy state and she tries to push that from her mind. She knows it is a lot for him to take on her child, as well as her.

"I can't leave her to cry" Jac argues though she knows it is pointless. She slips from the room, not waiting to hear an answer from him. She knows he'll want to continue the discussion tomorrow, the fact that she once again spent the night in the other room, curled up with the child and not him.

She walks quickly in to her daughter's bedroom. The room is in darkness and she realises that the nightlight isn't on, looking at the socket it appears to have disappeared entirely and that confuses her. She knows that she hasn't removed and she is almost certain that Millie wouldn't. She knows not to play touch the sockets.

Stepping closer, Jac switches on the bedside lamp, casting a soft glow over the daughter's face. It startles her to see that the child is still asleep, yet her face is damp and red from the flow of tears over her cheeks, heart wrenching cries still escaping from between her lips.

There's been a few nights recently, when she has woken her daughter to find her cheeks and pillow damp but she hadn't thought much of it, not really. But now she wishes she had taken note of it, asked her daughter whether anything was wrong and tried to get her to talk but already Millie is like her in that respect, she needs to be prodded to talk and sometimes she is just too busy, or too tired, to do the prodding.

Gently Jac slips her arms around her daughter's body, slipping herself down on to the duvet and cradling the still sobbing child. She whispers words of comfort unsure of whether they'd reach the sleeping girls ears but it is the most she can do. Finally the girl quietens and Jac feels the body stir in her arms.

"Mama" the word is murmured sleepily, a voice slightly hoarse. She looks down at her daughter's face, there is confusion in her young eyes as she raises a hand to her damp face. Jac gives her little girl a smile though it is so very forced.

"I'm here baby" she answers, cradling Millie's body against her and feeling the way her daughter burrows herself against her body, as if she is trying to crawl inside.

"Don't leave me mama" the child pleads, her voices till so sleepy and yet there is a desperation there, something that tugs at Jac, something that scares her a little though she isn't quite sure why.

"I'm not going anywhere" Jac tries to reassure her daughter, but she feels like there is something hollow in the words. She holds her daughter tighter, and leans down to place a kiss on the top of her head. The child sniffles softly.

"You won't go to Heaven to be with daddy?" she asks, her head turned in to her mother's body but still the words reach Jac's ears. They ring in her eyes, and she feels the weight of everything settle on her shoulders, a lump that builds in her throat. She wonders if this is the cause of her daughter's night time sobbing but that doesn't explain the other nights.

"No baby, I won't be going to Heaven" she answers, closing her eyes for a moment as she says the words. As she thinks of the child's father once again.

"Can daddy ever come see us from Heaven?" Millie asks, her face still pressed against her mother's body.

"No sweetheart" she answers, the words catching in her throat. She hears a sob escape from her daughter's mouth and once again she has to swallow hard to push away the lump in her throat. Everything seems to be pressing down on her.

"Tell me about daddy" the child requests, her voice growing softer. She can feel the breathing becoming more steady against her, though she knows the girl is not yet asleep. Jac crawls down the bed, so that she is lying alongside her daughter. Their bodies pressed together.

"Daddy loved you" she speaks quietly, "daddy wanted to look after you always, to protect you and to love you. You were his little princess" she says the words that she thinks her daughter needs to hear, and she speaks them until she knows her daughter has dropped off to sleep. Only then does she allow the tears to fall from her own eyes.


	3. Chapter 3

**I hope this is ok. I've really struggled with ordering this and the next part and I've spent most of the day switching between which one would be part 3 and which one would be part 4. (I'll probably end up posting 4 later because of it!). Thank you to anyone reading this :)**

Jac frowned as she awoke, aware that something didn't feel right. She could feel the warm weight nestled in her arms, and the wet patch against her chest where her daughter's tears had soaked through the material of her nightwear. It saddened her that her daughter had obviously cried throughout the rest of her sleep, even when held in the safety of her mother's arms.

Only Jac is aware of something else too and her frown deepens as she realises the bed, and her pyjama bottoms are wet through. For the first time, since she was two and a bit years old, Millie had wet the bed. She feels her daughter stir, the way she turns her head and Jac looks in to a pair of wide confused eyes as she realises she is damp, her expression turning to panic as she realises why.

"Morning sleepy" Jac whispers placing a kiss on her daughter's forehead, gently stroking away a strand of hair that has become plastered to her cheek, "we'll get you cleaned up ok?" she adds the words softly, trying to instil in her daughter that she has no need to worry, that everything is ok .

* * *

A short while later, Jac finds herself standing over the sink rinsing through sodden sheets and two sets of pyjamas before she throws them in to the washing machine in the hopes that they will emerge clean; though she has her doubts that they will.

"You're not angry are you?" Millie asks quickly, appearing at her mother's side. Jac kneels down in front of her little girl, now clad in a clean pair of pyjamas although she will soon need to put on her school uniform.

"Of course I'm not" Jac gives her daughter a small smile, trying to sound reassuring. The child doesn't look convinced, "Accidents happen Mills" Jac tries to reassure her daughter further and she watches as the child considers this.

"Only babies do that" Millie swallows hard as she says the words, her small brow furrowed.

"Not only babies Mill" Jac answers gently.

"I'm dirty mama" it's a sad quiet voice that the child uses.

"No you're not, you had a nice bath remember?" Jac tries to force a smile on to her face, "we used your favourite bubbles, and we had duckie and frog" Millie shakes her head, causing her hair to flicker in to her face. Jac pulls her daughter in to her arms, feels the child stiffen and tense against her. She tries to whisper words of reassurance to the child.

"You love me don't you mummy?" Millie asks when finally she escapes from her mother's grasp. Jac raises an eyebrow unsure by the turn in the conversation but knowing to this question there is only one answer.

"I love you more than anything" she answers, her daughter twists her lips.

"No matter what?"

"No matter what" Jac confirms, and she watches as Millie tries to comprehend this, as if she cannot quite believe the words are true, "I will love you forever and always" Jac adds.

"Would daddy have loved me forever and always?" Millie asks, with an unsure voice. Jac feels the smile on her face waver but she forces it to hold strong for her daughter.

"Your daddy loves you, forever and always" the words feel strange, she doesn't like the taste of them on her tongue. But they are words Millie needs to hear.

"I love you mama" the child whispers, still hesitant, "I love daddy too" she adds, a small smile on her face. Jac feels guilty at that, it is the first time she has ever heard those words on her daughter's lips; that she loves her daddy. The room suddenly feels claustrophobic, as if it is too small for the pair of them.

"You think you can go get ready for school?" Jac asks, needing quiet for a moment. Her daughter nods and disappears from the room, though Jac doesn't watch her go instead she places her head in her hands.

"You're not doing here any good y'know" She is startled by the sound of Liam's voice. She hadn't even realised he was awake, let alone that he had been standing in the kitchen doorway watching her, listening to her conversation with Millie.

"I don't understand" She turns to look at him, still kneeling on the floor. He steps closer towards her, until he is standing over her.

"You baby her" he thinks of the way she is with her daughter.

"She's not even six years old" she thinks of her daughter, she is still her baby even though she is growing steadily more independent, gradually learning to do things for herself and needing her mother that little bit less though she is still so very young.

"You never give consequences for her actions; you treat her like she's a baby" he is still looming over her but she starts to shift herself in to a standing position, not liking the feeling.

"I know how to look after my daughter" she tells him looking up in to his eyes. She watches as his expression changes, and he gives her a look that tells her, he isn't convinced by the statement.

"It's no wonder she acts this way" He informs he, thinking of the way the child acts and how her mother can be so blind to it.

"She's a child, Liam" Jac whispers the words, trying to make sense of what he is saying.

"And you're her mother" he tells her, an edge to his voice. She's sure there's a sentiment underwriting those words but she cannot tease it out.

"I am her mother, and I know what's right for her" she tries to sound more sure of herself than she feels. She sees the look in his eyes once more, the doubt. She tries to push it from her mind. She thinks she is a good mother, and yet the tormenting voice in the back of her head feeds on the doubt, reminding her of her failings, her mistakes. The longer it resides in her mind, the more fuel the voice has and she tries desperately to push it out.

"If you're sure" there's a bitterness to his voice, a low undertone. There's words left unspoken, though she hears them in her head. She looks past him, sees Millie standing in the kitchen doorway, an unreadable expression on her face.


	4. Chapter 4

**Hopefully this is ok :)  
**

**Set a few days after part 3 (but some bits may indicate it's the same day - I'm sorry if this happens, I did try to remove all instances of this!)**

"Are you sure you're ok baby girl?" Jac was watching her daughter carefully, the way she seemed to be shovelling her breakfast cereal down, her eyes glancing every so often towards the kitchen doorway and the clock that hung above it.

"Yes" was the answer she received in a very small voice between mouthfuls. Jac was hesitant to send her daughter to school after the events of the previous few days and yet when they had awoken – for Jac had once again found herself sleeping alongside her daughter - Millie had almost bolted from the bed in haste to grab her uniform .

"You can have day home with Liam; watching films, playing with your toys" Jac tries to make it sound like the better option though most children wouldn't take much persuasion, still hasn't she once taken sanctuary in her school away from her mother. Only Millie had no reason to seek sanctuary. The child shook her head.

"I have reading today and I have to go" she answers having finished the cereal. She jumps down from her chair and takes her bowl to the sink, placing it within the soapy water before she looks about the room for her shoes.

"I don't mind if you miss it and Liam would love the company" Jac tries to reason, she is almost sure is being unnecessarily concerned, that it is just Millie coming to terms with everything but there is something niggling in the back of her mind, that mingles with the guilt she feels.

"I have to go" the child turns to her, hands on hips and a look beyond her years colouring her in that moment "If you don't take me, I'll go on my own. I'm a big girl now" it's an expression she hasn't used in years and yet now it has an angry edge unlike the times she had used in previously. Jac frowns.

"Don't take that tone with me Millie" her voice is low, a warning and she watches as Millie's hands drop away from her hip and she retreats in the direction of her school shoes.

"I'm sorry" the girl whispers as she pulls the shoes onto her feet struggling with the buckle but pulling away when Jac approaches to help. When she finally manages she stands but shows no pride in the achievement.

"Looks like your nearly ready" Jac says sadly glancing at the clock which tells her they are well ahead of schedule yet Millie is already grabbing her bag.

"Then we can go?" The child asks in a rush and Jac raises an eyebrow somewhat bemused by the sudden love of school her daughter is developing; her little academic star.

"Soon" Jac informs her going to do to washing up before they leave otherwise it'll just be waiting until she gets home tonight and to kill some of the time because there is no point leaving this early.

"NOW!" Millie shouts the word, it's an order and Jac turns startled and she sees Liam appear in the doorway, an expression she cannot read on his face.

"Millie" Jac warns her daughter

"We Go Now" Millie sounds so much younger yet the angry undertones make her seem older.

"Listen to your mother Amelia" Liam warns her now and Millie frowns startled at the sound of his voice.

"Sorry mum" she whispers as she shrinks away placing her bag on the ground rifling through it as if that is of the utmost importance. Jac gives Liam a smile and mouths her thanks. Before she finishes her task.

"Right Millie time to go" she says finally "remember Liam's picking you up and if your good hes going to take you to the park" Jac smiles at the idea of it.

"We'll have fun wont we?" Liam questions "you loved the swings and the roundabout last time didn't you?" Millie glances between the adults, she sees the look in both of their eyes and she stands grabbing her bag and walking to the door.

"Yes" she says softly as she passes between them, eyes trained firmly on the door.

* * *

Jac walks with her daughter in to the school playground, Millie having run ahead of her most of the way in her apparent rush to get there. It's been a while since Jac has had to call out after her daughter to warn her to be careful of the busy traffic and to wait at the pavement edge. She had considered her daughter to be careful in that respect, already having a good awareness of danger and how to avoid it; only today that seemed to have dropped from her head and instead she was single minded in her pursuit.

"Ms Naylor" Jac looks up to see Millie's teacher, it appears the woman has been standing in wait for the pair of them as it draws attention from the other parents who are littered around the ground. Jac knows that the gossips have probably spent their time trying to work out who the teacher was waiting for and, now they will start to dissect why she is the chosen one, "I'd like to have a word with you" the woman adds, leading the mother in to the classroom, "you play out here for a bit Millie, Miss Pearce is out there if you need anything" she directs this too the child before she indicates for Jac to step in to the classroom.

"Is there something wrong?" Jac asks a little dumbly. The logical part of her mind tells her it is a stupid question, that something being wrong is the only reason she'd find herself standing in the classroom with her daughter's teacher. The logical part tells her that she has her own concerns that something isn't quite right but another part tells her she is being stupid. That she is seeing things that don't exist.

"I do have some concerns" The teacher starts, her voice soft. It's a voice that Jac thinks the woman uses when one of the children is hurt or scared, it's a voice that strikes a note of panic in Jac. It reminds her of the voice that 'kindly' teachers would use with her when she was a child, "take a seat" the teacher indicates one of the low chairs designed for the children and Jac views it with contempt but still she eases herself down on to it. In that moment, she is reminded of another time when she had sat on a small chair like this, in the garden with him. How they had sat in front of the little playhouse, a plastic representation of what he wanted with her – a home. How differently things had turned out to be.

"Concerns?" Jac nods a little preparing herself for the words the teacher is about to say. The woman heads to her desk and grabs a slim file, and for a second Jac has a vision of that file years down the line; a file much thicker, a file reminiscent of her own.

"Our primary concern is related to Millie's behaviour" the teacher opens the file and reads the sheet, though she has no real need to, "she's been increasingly aggressive and very quick to anger" Jac thinks back over the morning and her daughters tone but she pushes the idea away, she knows her own temperament and it seems that it is a part of her daughter also, "She also seems to get very frustrated with herself and displays behaviours which, I'll be frank, are not consistent with her age. At times she is acting much younger but at others much more grown up. It's making it harder for her to develop relationships with her peers, though she is withdrawing from them also preferring to play alone which again makes things more difficult"

"She's had quite an eventful few days" Jac informs the teacher and she watches as the teacher shakes her head, perhaps regretfully although Jac isn't entirely sure.

"Things have been building over a number of months" the teacher answers, looking back at the file. She can remember the child that had started at the school a year ago, a child who had been full of hope and promise and she thinks of the child now, two months in to year 1, "have you noticed any changes in Millie's behaviour at home?" the teacher asks, watching the mother carefully. Jac frowns and twists her lips before she glances around the classroom, at walls decorated in the children's artwork, at the book corner, the draw with her daughter's name printed on it along with a picture of a stethoscope which Millie had chosen as her symbol.

"She's fine" Jac answers, turning back to the teacher though she doesn't quite give her eye contact. She doesn't want her daughter labelled as a problem child, or a child with issues. She wants her normal little girl and besides she doesn't want people prying in to her home life. If they start digging too deeply, Jac is worried they'll find out too much and she'll lose everything she has.

"You haven't noticed any of these signs?" The teacher sounds surprised, but she notes how the mother is unable to meet her gaze, the way she seems to be so very uncomfortable now.

"Perhaps it's a problem here" Jac counters, though she knows it's unreasonable. Her daughter had been in such a rush to get here that it makes no sense and besides she knows the behaviour isn't limited to the classroom. The teachers runs a hand through her hair, feeling like she is getting nowhere with this woman.

"Millie seems to enjoy school, she is naturally clever and has a thirst for learning although this has tapered with the changes in her behaviour" the teacher responds, "It's been noted that she becomes more agitated as the school day starts to come to a close, we've had days where she has become very distressed at home time, we have tried to catch you to discuss this" the teacher adds, thinking of the other child, how they had been affected by Millie's outbursts.

"I'll have a talk with her" Jac speaks, shifting in to a standing position. She needs to get out of here.

"Ms Naylor, I'm not sure you understand the seriousness of this" The teacher informs her, Jac frowns, disliking the woman for doubting this about her.

"I am well aware of the seriousness of what you are saying and you can be assured that I will talk with my daughter to get to the bottom of the issue" Jac knows she is sounding harsher than is required but she cannot help it. Everything seems to be pressing down on her and there is no air here, in this room. She cannot breathe, she is suffocating. The image of her daughter flickers in her mind. This is her fault. Everything is her fault. Liam is right. She walks from the classroom. The teacher's eyes watching her as she goes, burning in to her spine; the teacher makes a mental note as she watches the woman walk away.


	5. Chapter 5

**Thank you to everyone reading this - and I hope it's ok.**

As she watches her daughter pull on her coat ready for the walk to school, Jac considers the conversation she'd had with the teacher the previous day, the conversation which has been continually seeping in to her thoughts but which she tries desperately to push away. But she knows she needs to address it somehow. She wraps her own coat around herself, and grabs her bag and her daughters.

"You ready Miss Millie?" Jac asks with a smile, knowing full well that her daughter has been ready almost from the moment she had woken up. She had almost begged to be taken to school early, tried to persuade her mother that she could go to breakfast club even though no place was booked, she wouldn't be noticed in amongst the other children was Millie's reasoning.

"Ready" Millie answers, and Jac opens the door. The lock too high above her daughter's reach, something that Jac is relieved about though that is something that worries her in equal measure.

As they set out on the path, a familiar route, Jac reaches down to take her daughter's hand, in an attempt to slow the girl's speed, so that their pace is matched at the one chosen by the mother. Jac looks down at her daughter's head.

"Whose you're best friend Mills?" Jac asks gently, thinking of how the teacher had mentioned Millie preferring to play alone and how she made it difficult for her peers to relate to her. She thinks now that Millie has stopped talking about her playmates, stopped suggesting play dates. It strikes Jac that she hasn't had any birthday party invites in many weeks when usually they come fairly regularly; the parties planned well in advance. Her daughter's social schedule had once been packed, and yet now it seemed so very empty and it surprised Jac that she hadn't even realised.

"Does it matter?" Millie answers, her expression sounding grown up, concluded with a far too adult sigh.

"You haven't had friends over in a while" Jac ponders aloud and she hears her daughter sigh again.

"You don't have friends either mama" Millie counters, and Jac frowns at the thought of it, surprised at how quick the response came. She thinks back, trying to remember the last time she had contact with people outside of her work colleagues and Liam, it surprises her that she can't.

"We're talking about you Mills" Jac responds, and Millie looks up at her mother, lips twisted together.

"How come I don't see Uncle Sacha anymore?" It's a question asked innocently, "I used to like Uncle Sacha, he was funny and he gave really good hugs"

"Don't you remember what I told you?" Jac queries, watching as Millie twists her lips together even more, her mind obviously deep in thought as they continue to walk.

"You told me that he and Auntie Mo moved away" Millie tilts her head, "Auntie Mo said I could be one of her bridesmaids 'cos they are my godparents but now I don't see them anymore" there's a sadness in her tone, and Jac remembers the invite that had arrived almost a year ago inviting her to the wedding. She hadn't gone, and as such Millie had missed out on the opportunity to be a bridesmaid, "Did I do something wrong, so they no longer liked me?"

"No darling, they just moved away" it scares Jac how easily the lie comes to her lips. In reality Sacha and Mo did move but only to another house in Holby. Given she too had only moved just outside of the city, it amazed her that she managed to keep a part from them – though again she didn't know why she did, she couldn't remember how it had happened.

"But they didn't go to Heaven, so we could visit" there's such hope in Millie's voice that it makes it all the more harder for Jac.

"I have to work Mills, I can't just go away" she knows it's a stupid excuse. She is owed holiday – a lot of it – but for some reason she doesn't seem to take it.

"I could go on my own" Millie furrows her brow as something comes in to her head, "Auntie Mo once said she'd take me somewhere where daddy could see me, does that mean she knows a way of visiting heaven?" There is an increased level of hope in Millie's tone that startles Jac.

"No baby, I don't know what Mo meant either but you can't visit Heaven" Jac answers, and Millie frowns, her hope suddenly leaving her. She thinks about what her teacher had said about Heaven when asked. She hates the idea that daddy must have been very poorly, or very hurt, to have had to go there – and that doctors like mummy hadn't been able to fix him. Millie thinks that mummy might be able to fix him and that maybe Mo could have helped her find him.

"But I could go see Auntie Mo and Uncle Sacha?" Millie asks, she could ask for Mo's help. Then she could have daddy to look after her because mummy said he would be able too.

"They work really hard like mummy, but maybe one day" Millie nods, to her one day could be tomorrow or the day after, she doesn't see that her mum is using it as an escape clause.

"What about Uncle Elliot, he doesn't work so much now" Jac frowns, she is surprised Millie remembers so many of her old colleagues. It has been almost 3 years since she left Holby and almost 2 that she lost contact with her old friends – beyond Sacha - completely. Millie had been so very little the last time she'd seen them.

"One day Mills" Jac answers quietly, knowing that one day will probably never come. It saddens her, how very isolated she now feels.

"But I have you" Millie says gently with a smile and it strikes Jac that this may be Millie's way of saying that her mother is currently her only friend.

"And I have you" Jac responds, "and Liam" as soon as she says it she regrets it. The way her daughter's face darkens at the mention of the name. But something catches Millie's eye, they are close now to the school.

"That man's watching us" Millie whispers, and Jac turns. She feels her heart hammer in her chest when she sees just who Millie is looking at. She becomes acutely aware of the child tugging at her arm and the pull of her body towards his, like the force of a magnet. She can feel Millie's haste to get away from the person watching, disliking the scrutiny. "Who is he?" she asks, aware of the fact that her mother has frozen.

"Just a friend Mills" that confuses Millie because so much of the conversation before had shown neither of them to have many friends. And yet this man appeared to be one of her mums, and besides they didn't appear to be very friendly, they just stared at each other.

"But" Jac steps in front of her daughter, almost shielding her from view. The way her heart is hammering she is certain each beat should be visible through the material of her top.

"Go in to school baby girl" Jac whispers, dropping her daughter's hand, "I'll see you later Mills ok?"

"Bye mama" Millie whispers in response, for a moment wrapping her arms around her mother, "love you" she adds before she runs in to the school playground. Jac stands rooted to the spot, watching him as he had watched her. He steps closer.

"Jac" there is something about his voice. It is a voice she hears in the dead of night, in her dreams. She struggles to control her breathing which now feels erratic as she watches him. She watches him, watches how his mouth seems to be forming words that she can no longer hear.

"I can't do this" she whispers, somehow choking out words. She isn't sure how she manages to form them but she does and she watches his face change.

"Jac please" he repeats her name, and adds a plea and she struggles so much to resist that but so much is telling her that she must. She cannot do this, there is too much at stake and yet she cannot resist him. The pull of the magnet is too strong.

"Meet me at the Blackbird cafe in half an hour" she isn't sure where the words come from, yet they are out there before she can stop them. She watches as his face changes, and expression of relief she thinks. She isn't sure she'll go, if she can face it but he appears to trust her.

"Thank you, Jac" he whispers before he turns and slips away from her, disappearing from view. She turns to look through the school gates. She spots her daughter and tries to smile, but she is struck by the concerned look on the face of the teaching assistant to whom her daughter talks so intently. She starts to walk away, looking at the spot where he had stood.

"Jac" she hears him saying her name again, though he is nowhere to be seen. Then she sees the flicker of a figure at the spot where he had stood, she whispers his name.

"Jonny"


	6. Chapter 6

**Hopefully this is ok . I'll admit I'm writing this on (and updating) it fairly quickly 'cos it's depressing me a fair bit and won't actually get out of my head. **

She walks slowly in to the café, it's near enough to the outskirts that she doubts anyone will see her here and even if they do they probably wouldn't take any notice. She's skilled at hiding in plain sight. She spots him almost instantly, though his back is turned. For the briefest of moments she considers turning away and walking back to her car and forgetting that this was ever going to happen, but she knows it's too late for that now. She doubts he'll give up now. She watches as he turns towards her, as if sensing her gaze burning in to the back of his head. The sight of him steals her breath away once again. Slowly she makes her way towards him and takes the seat opposite.

"Do you want a coffee?" he speaks first and she is surprised by how relaxed he seems, when her entire body feels tensed. She hopes she is disguising it well enough that he won't know how much he is affecting her; how this terrifies her. She shakes her head, and he frowns, "I would have got you one but I didn't think you'd show" he admits softly.

"Well I did" she speaks harshly and fixes him with a glare that he had long since tried to forget. He had spent so long trying to push her from his mind, but he'd never managed for long; not without the aid of a bottle of something pungent with a percentage that would make most people's eyes water.

"How's Mia?" He tries to move the subject on to what he hopes is safe ground. He watches as she frowns and closes her eyes, almost as if she is for a second pained. When she opens her eyes, he thinks for a moment there is the glisten of moisture welling on their surface.

"Millie" she looks him in the eye, "her name is Millie" she informs him and she thinks for a moment he looks hurt by that. Mia is the nickname he had used for the baby from almost the moment her name had been decided, it was the nickname that seemed to be adopted by everyone else soon after although she had tried to resist it. When things had gone so very wrong she'd found herself unable to call her daughter by that name. For weeks, the child had been she or baby until she had finally settled on Millie. It was close enough to her full name but far enough away that it didn't remind her so much of him.

"How's … Millie?" He says quietly, the name feeling strange on his tongue. He thinks of the baby he'd held in his arms, the child he'd rocked in his arms and to whom he had sung lullabies. He tries to attach that name to her, but it seems wrong. Mia is his daughter, and she seems all the more lost to him now.

"I don't know why you care all of a sudden" he almost recoils back from her and the harshness of her tone. He knows in many ways in deserves it, but so much has happened; so much that he doesn't want to tell her and so much that he does that the tone almost cripples him.

"I never stopped caring about her" he answers, his voice small and distant as he thinks back over the lonely years. Of the life he has not lived, of the way he has merely existed. He wishes he could say more than that, that he could tell her that it isn't just Mia – Millie – that he has never stopped loving but he doesn't have the words too, and he knows she wouldn't accept them.

"You walked away from us Jonny" She glances down at her hands, which she has splayed on the surface of the table, before she returns her gaze to his face. She watches as the pain dances in his eyes, as he processes the words. She watches as he swallows hard, trying so desperately to regain control

"You pushed me away Jac" he responds finally, in a voice filled with a sadness that he haunted him for years. A sadness that has hung around his shoulders like a cloak preventing anyone from getting close to him, that has stopped them even bothering to try.

"You could have fought" he thinks he detects sadness in her words. He wonders if she knew how hard he had fought, how much it had destroyed him to have to fight every day and how on that last day it had just become too much. The final straw had snapped and he had been unable to stay; knowing full well that walking away would be the end.

"You don't know how hard I tried" he whispers. She tries to think back, but her mind muddles the events that occurred during her pregnancy and in those first few months of her daughter's life. She remembers being overwhelmed and suffocated and struggling to cope with that on top of the exhaustion that seemed to set out to destroy her. She remembers how he had seemed to stay out later, going to the pub with his best friend leaving her at home with the screaming child.

"You could have tried harder" there is a sort of plea in her words, and he wonders how different things could have been. He thinks of how she had tried to block him out, how she had insisted that she could cope and do everything without him, how it had destroyed him when she had pushed him away from their daughter because the child, she said, needed her mother. He had tried to help, to do the little things to make their lives easier but it has always been wrong; it has always backfired and led to the arguments between them. It had been Mo that had found him, arriving for a morning shift. His eyes red and a suspicious mark on his cheek. The second time she had been physical against him. It had been Mo who had dragged him to the bar to talk but he hadn't been able to open up; she would never have forgiven him for that and so he struggled on.

"You made it impossible" she recalls the worst night, when the baby had cried so angrily in the cot. The night when she hadn't let him close to the child to comfort her, though she couldn't recall why. She had shouted at him, words she could no longer remember though she knew their intention; to strip his dignity and to leave him small and weak; to see her emerge to victor. Only he had retaliated, with words he too knew would hurt. He had shouted of her ability to comfort the still howling child, how she was failing, she thought he had mentioned her DNA – that it was in her nature because of her own mother – but she wasn't sure that had happened; that it wasn't just her mind playing cruel tricks once again. She had thought it more than once in those early months. And she had hit him.

"You proved me right" she looks him right in the eye as she speaks. She had never expected him to stay, not really. Nobody ever stayed and she had been waiting for the moment when he walked. Perhaps she had hastened it by pushing him rather than delaying the inevitable. But she had known he would go, that he would seek an easier life, though it killed her to know that he could leave her daughter behind. But then, that was what father's did – or at least the fathers of Naylor girls.

"You gave me no choice Jac" he returns the gaze, of looking directly in to her eyes. She had made up her mind so early on that he would leave her, the self-fulfilling prophecy. Her own father had left her, the men she loved left her and inevitably he would leave her too. It wasn't just a possibility, a vague chance, it was a predetermined outcome and he had fought against it; tried to rewrite the story only the words already written had already scarred the blank pages leaving an ending he couldn't seem to change. He had wanted to more than anything, to prove her wrong but it had destroyed him slowly until the prophecy came true and he lost what was most important to him.

Her phone rings in her pocket and she frowns. She isn't expecting any calls and that worries her. She fishes it out and looks at the number on the screen. Her heart rate quickens and a feeling of terror settles over her as she flicks a finger across the screen to answer.

"Hello" she tries to sound confident and strong, her normal self.

"Yes this is Ms Naylor" she confirms her identity. She listens to the words that the person on the end of the phone line says only they don't seem to make much sense. She feels tears spring in to her eyes, and slip down her cheeks as she tries to make sense of what is being said.

"Right St James'?" she finds her voice to confirm this one detail and she closes her eyes, her body shaking now.

"I'll be right there" she says as opens her eyes and shuts off the phone. She pushes herself up and away from the table, unable to face the concern reflected in his eyes, in the slight downturn of his mouth. She tries to control her breathing before she walks away but the shaking of her body causes her to sway and she loses balance needing the support of the table to stand.

"Jac?" he speaks gently, she watches as he stands and moves closer to her. If she had more strength she would step back and away from him but she doesn't trust herself not to fall.

"Millie's had an accident" she whispers so quietly, the terror and panic colouring each word she manages to choke out.


	7. Chapter 7

**Hopefully this part is ok (I did do some research in order to write this as I wasn't sure how plausible it is - but hopefully it's ok). I probably should be some kind of warning on this part. Thanks to anyone reading / reviewing. **

"_Millie's had an accident" she whispers so quietly, the terror and panic colouring each word she manages to choke out._

"I'll drive you" he feels the panic rise in his own chest. He watches as her face contorts as she considers his offer. She thinks of her own ability to drive, in the state she is in, and how she will be off no use to her child if she ends up crashing her car. But she isn't sure she can face sitting with him in a small enclosed space with nobody else around, and she cannot let him see the child.

"You'll wait in the waiting room" she tells him, and he nods saddened for a moment but it is better than nothing. Silently he snakes an arm around her waist and waits for the moment when she pushes him away but instead she allows him to guide her to his car. He can feel the tension in her at the physical contact between them but still she allows him to lead her. He sees his car, and for a moment he feels a sense of embarrassment, the car is a wreck and he is certain he sees her expression change briefly at the sight of it though she recovers it soon enough. He presses her in to the front seat before he drives away towards the A&E where his daughter lies waiting.

* * *

"Jac" Walking through the doors of the A&E department with Jonny by her side, she was almost immediately greeted by Carl Taylor, one of the doctors she had occasionally had to work alongside when she'd been called down to this department.

"Where's Mil?" She doesn't even bother to greet him and Carl nods his understanding that now is most definitely not the time to chat, not that Jac has ever been one for mindless chatter. If it hadn't been for the child's admission to the hospital, he wouldn't even have known that she had a daughter.

"She's through here" he speaks gently, turning in the direction of the paediatric area, taking a moment to look at the man who is standing alongside his colleague; he cannot quite place where he knows him from and yet there is something very familiar about his face.

"Wait here" Jac hisses under her breath at Jonny, just loud enough for him to be able to hear but low enough that it wouldn't draw any attention from anyone else. She follows behind her colleague as he guides her through the maze that is the A&E department, in to the more brightly coloured area specifically designed for the younger patients. He takes her in to a small private room, where on the trolley bed her daughter lies with a teacher sitting by her side. It isn't a teacher that Jac recognises.

"Look Millie, mummy's here now" the teacher speaks softly to the child, who doesn't even seem to react. Instead she stares disinterested at the ceiling, her eyes wide. Jac frowns as she steps closer to her daughter. She tries not to react when she sees the scraps and scratches that cover her daughters face, the white bandage wrapped around her head and the cast that has been formed around her left arm. Bile rises in his throat as she takes in the state of her daughter, but it is the frozen state she appears to be in that shocks her all the more. The teacher too seems unsure by what is going on.

"What happened?" Jac asks finally, turning her attention to the woman whose gaze is flicking between the mother and child. The teacher frowns as she is forced to relive the moment again.

"Millie was playing on the climbing frame – you know how much she loves climbing up and then going down the slide" the teacher smiles a little at the thought. Millie is one of the easiest children to keep track of on the playground, "and I just don't know what happened, one minute she was on the platform, away from the opening and the slide, and the next she was on the ground" the world had seemed to slow to a crawl when she'd seen the child lying on the ground, the screams echoing around her, the reality that the other children had witnessed this and that Millie didn't appear to be moving, that there appeared to be a red pool forming on the ground around the girl's head.

"How did she fall?" Jac doesn't understand. She can picture the structure in her mind, her daughter runs to it each morning to have a play before the school day starts provided they aren't running late, and usually at the end of the day she begs to have one last go before they head for home. The platform is enclosed and it just doesn't make sense.

"I don't know" the teacher answers sadly, shaking her head slightly. It doesn't make sense to her either. She had always thought the structure was one of the safest, even for an adult it would be difficult to fall over the platform boundaries, so for a child as small as Millie it seemed near impossible.

"Was she pushed?!" Jac exclaims suddenly, looking down at her daughter, who doesn't even react to the outburst from her mother. It scares her how the child doesn't appear to have moved beyond the rise and fall of her chest. The teacher swallows hard, she can understand the mother jumping to that conclusion and the flash of anger that has appeared in her eyes at the very idea that someone could have done this to her daughter.

"She was the only one up there" the teacher sighs as she speaks. The only other child who had been playing on the structure was Ben and he'd been sliding down in the moment when she had seen Millie standing up there. Ben had been the first to scream when Millie had fallen, he had been so very close to her in that moment.

"Then how did she?" Jac swallows hard unable to understand how this happened. She looks down at her daughter, at the frozen battered face and sees pain-filled eyes which stare at something that nobody else can see. She doesn't even appear to be aware of what is going on.

"Miss Jameson, I think we need to have a few words" Carl speaks quietly. He hadn't wanted to talk in front of the child, "and I think Jac might like a few moments alone with Millie" he adds gently though he is reluctant to go too far away. The teacher nods and whispers something to the child which is inaudible to Jac before she steps outside with the doctor. Carl leaves the door open slightly, and smiles as he passes the man who had arrived with Jac.

Jac pulls down one of the bed-side rails that keeps her daughter contained within the trolley, before she perches on the edge next to her child. Gently she takes the girl's uninjured hand in her own. She sees how very small it is against her own, and how the pale flesh is scarred by red marks. Tears well in her eyes and she tries to force them away. She doesn't want Millie to see her cry.

"Oh my beautiful baby girl" Jac whispers, squeezing the little girl's hand. She closes her eyes in a vague attempt to push away the tears that are building there, when her daughter fails to respond even to that. She had never known her daughter to be like this, "My little girl in a million" she runs a finger along her daughters cheek, something she did when the girl was a toddler and wouldn't sleep. It had soothed her then, but beneath her touch the child flinches; the first movement she has made since her mother arrived. Jac pulls her hand away confused and looks in to the frozen eyes, which have now shifted and settled on her mother's face.

"What happened Mills?" she asks quietly, not expecting anything from her seemingly frozen child. The girl turns her head back to look up at the ceiling.

"I wanted to go visit daddy" the words are quiet, and it takes Jac a moment to realise that they have come from her daughter's mouth. The voice sounds so distant and strange. A sick feeling rises in Jac's throat as she comes to realise what her daughter is saying.

"You know you can't visit Heaven Mills" Jac whispers the words, and she watches as her daughter closes her eyes, blocking out the blue ceiling with its painted on clouds and birds. The guilt of her lie presses down heavily on her chest, stealing her breath while her stomach churns.

"I wanted to see him" the child repeats, eyes still tightly closed, the hand that Jac had been holding now bunched up in to a tight fist, "Daddy would look after me and protect me. I wanted to be with daddy" the words are still so distant, so strange but there is something in them that scares Jac beyond the implication of her words. She doesn't think Millie fully understands that Heaven isn't a place you can just visit and yet she seemed to know enough to act as she did to get there.

The sick feeling increases and the tears burn her eyes, Jac tries to push it away. To push everything away but it all seems to be building on top of her.

"I just need to go talk to your doctor" she speaks hurriedly and a glance at her daughter, tells her the child has slipped back in to her frozen state once again. Jac rushes from the room and in the direction of the ladies toilets, where she finds herself vomiting in to the toilet bowl. Her face streaming with tears. She doesn't hear the door open and close. She isn't even aware of anyone else's presence.

"You told her I was dead" she isn't aware until she hears his voice.


End file.
